


Prompt: Betrayal

by Lostfadingthoughts



Category: Drarry - Fandom, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drarry, Light Angst, M/M, eighth year, harry x draco - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-15
Updated: 2017-11-15
Packaged: 2019-02-02 20:30:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12733776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lostfadingthoughts/pseuds/Lostfadingthoughts
Summary: A light angst one shot set in eighth year for Harry and Draco. Some light fluff.





	Prompt: Betrayal

**Author's Note:**

> It seems that angst gets harder and harder for me to write the older I get. This has a bit of light angst in it and some light fluff for the boys.
> 
> Prompt from Anon on Tumblr.

Bloody, broken, and lying on the floor. 

It was a common occurrence for Draco Malfoy these days. No longer did his family name carry the same weight and feared respect it once did. Even students from his own house had shunned him upon their return to Hogwarts after the second wizarding war.

Life wasn’t exactly easy anymore and friends were hard to come by. His family may have defected in the end, seen the light of the other side, the error of their blind faith, but it didn’t matter to the children of the families who’d been locked up. Draco was nothing but a traitor.

The hard floor of the bathroom had become cold and Draco could feel it seeping into his bones. He stood, albeit shakily, and made his way to a sink. His face was battered and bruised and he was pretty sure he’d cracked a few ribs this time. 

The reflection in the mirror didn’t afford much. His hair frayed in all sorts of directions, one of his eyes had almost swollen shut, and there was a large gash on his arm where he had tried to deflect a kick to his face. If Draco could pride himself on anything it was his good looks, but none of that seemed to matter now anyway. 

The door behind him creaked open and Draco instantly became rigid against the sink. For a split second he was worried it was the same band of students come back to finish beating him to a bloody pulp, but then he heard familiar laughter. 

The sound sent Draco’s stomach to flip and his heart to skip a beat. 

“Oh come off it, I was aiming for that corner in the stands! You’ll never let me live that down will you?” Ron Weasley bellowed. 

Harry just laughed at his friend, shaking his head. “Oh no, I-oh.” Both stopped short. 

Draco turned from the sink, trying his best to stand straight. He flinched slightly at the pain it caused, but he pushed onward. “As if you could aim for anything in your life, Weasley.” It was an automatic response, to shoot a nasty comment towards the red head. He didn’t even really mean it. 

Words like those came spilling out so easily from him. It was easier to be mean with droves of people to back him up. Now it just seemed a desperate attempt to deflect from the obvious humiliating situation.

Ron scrunched up his nose in Draco’s general direction. “Come on Harry, something stinks in here.” He turned to leave but Harry was still standing there, still watching as Draco struggled to stand and breathe properly. 

Gone were the days where Harry would have out right shunned Draco though. As much as he would hate to admit it, he owed his life to Draco and his mother. If he hadn’t been tossed that wand he would have been dead in a matter of minutes. Running unarmed only took you so far. 

“D-do you need you help, Malfoy?” Harry asked, trying to build up the courage to even ask the question.

Ron stared incredulously at Harry. Old habits and old family feuds didn’t necessarily die so easily. 

Draco wanted to spout another antagonist remark but his body was betraying him. He couldn’t keep his stance much longer and had to lean back against one of the sinks for support. When he couldn’t simply lean anymore he felt himself slowly falling to the floor. “Oh god yes.” He breathed, crumpling into his injuries. 

It was instinct, to help the wounded. Harry had always been one to help a fallen person, even if they had been an enemy at some point. He rushed to Draco’s side, grabbing hold of one of his arms. He slung it over his shoulder and wrapped one of his own arms around Draco’s waist. He made sure to put all of Draco’s weight on himself before he looked up at the door. 

At Ron who stood gawking back at them. “Harry-“

“Now’s not the time Ron. Either help me or move.” Harry watched as Ron moved aside, holding open the door to the hallway outside. Together, Draco and Harry slowly but surely made their way out of the bathroom and down the hall. 

Knowing the way to the infirmary like the back of his hand, Harry marched onward, confident and carefully. They passed students of varying years and houses along the way and with each step closer to the Hospital Wing, the whispers behind them grew louder and louder. 

Harry had lost Ron somewhere along the throng of watchful students. Hopefully he was alerting people to the fact that Harry wasn’t the one who’d done the beating. Draco shuffled on silently, grateful for the help and relieved that Harry had been the one to find him. 

The pain in his side was increasing with every step they took but Draco didn’t want to speak up. It would be faster to fight through it then risk stopping to rearrange. Quite frankly he didn’t want to stay out in the hallway any longer then he had to. He could already feel his face reddening from embarrassment, as droves of students began pointing and audibly gasping in their direction.

They’d finally turned the corner into the Hospital Wing and Draco was fighting to make any noise of pain or discomfort. As they reached the door to the infirmary, Harry let go briefly of the arm slung around his shoulders to open it. The lack of tension caused Draco to grunt and before either knew it, he’d fallen limp in Harry’s other arm, the pain becoming too unbearable. 

Before Draco fainted he heard Harry exclaim somewhere far away and felt both arms wrap around him, holding him close.

Stirring, Draco’s senses were fuzzy at first. He tried to sit up but a throbbing in his head made him stay put. For a moment he couldn’t figure out where he was but he was laying on something soft and comfortable. Opening his eyes he caught sight of the large vaulted ceiling above him and a reclined body in the corner of his vision. 

Harry was sitting in a chair next to his bed, head slumped forward on his chest, sound asleep. Draco turned to see him and his chest tightened. The memories of earlier came rushing back to him, the whispers from the students following him all the way to the Hospital Wing. 

Draco’s face reddened again, heat flushing his cheeks. He tried to make another move to sit up and was successful. The throbbing in his head was less painful and he managed to scoot his pillow behind his back. He sat there for a while, watching Harry sleep peacefully in the chair next to him. 

The moon stood high in the darkened sky, sitting above the clouds and providing some light to the grounds below. All the other beds inside lay vacant, glowing with the soft light of candles.

It must have been way past visiting hours but Harry was still here, still sitting by his side. 

Draco could hear Madam Pomfrey bustling around in her office but she hadn’t seemed to take notice that Draco was awake and sitting up. 

“Potter.” He spoke softly, his throat dry. “Potter, wake up.” 

Harry stirred in his chair, his head rising as he rose from his uncomfortable sleeping position. He looked around briefly before settling on Draco. Smiling a little, he sat up a little straighter. 

“Hi.”

“Hi. Why are you here?” Quick and to the point. 

Caught a bit off guard, Harry shifted in his seat. “Uhm, you fainted and I just-I don’t know, figured you didn’t want to wake up alone.”

Draco studied the other for a moment. Deciding the answer was genuine and truthful, he relaxed against his pillow and sighed. 

“You look better.” Harry mumbled. When Draco reached up to touch his face, Harry leaned over and grabbed a small mirror that laid on the table. “Madam Pomfrey put a salve on your face and got some Skele-gro down you when you were going in and out. Apparently you had a few broken ribs.”

Draco didn’t really know what to say. Harry had a habit of catching him during his most vulnerable times. He silently watched as Harry passed the small mirror onto the edge of the hospital bed.

“Thanks.” Draco muttered, declining to snatch the mirror up. Even if he did look better, he didn’t want to see the bruises the beating would have left behind, or the heat that was flushing his face like wild fire. 

The awkward silence hung between them, almost mocking them for their situation. Once declared mortal enemies, it was hard to be civil to one another. Though each had in turn saved the other’s life at some point during the war, simple conversation seemed difficult and strained. 

Harry cleared his throat, running a hand through his unruly hair. “I should be thanking you, you know. I never actually did, for tossing me your wand that day.” His own face was starting to redden as he stammered on. “So...thank you.”

Draco snorted, smiling at the other as he struggled. “I’m just sorry I realized too late what the right thing to do was.”

It was as if this simple accidental meeting was all they needed to push each other to have a friendly conversation. 

“You should tell someone what’s happening.”

Looking down at his lap, Draco let loose an exhausting sigh. This wasn’t the first time he’d been beaten by fellow house peers, but it was one of the worst ones. It was hard to rise up and prove oneself that they had changed when they were constantly looking over their shoulder for the next hit. Draco shrugged. “What’s the point? I was debating leaving during the holiday vacation anyway and not coming back. I don’t necessarily need to finish up the year. I just thought-” He sighed again. “I really don’t know what I thought.”

Harry wasn’t sure what to say. It was hard to offer the olive branch of friendship when they’d spent so many years on opposing sides, but seeing Draco look so hurt both physically and emotionally, it struck something inside of him. 

“I want to help you.”

Draco snorted again, shaking his head. “And what could you do? Cloud me in the aura of your victory? Who would dare touch the boy under the watchful eyes of Harry Potter? Like that won’t put a larger target on my back.” He didn’t really mean to say these things, but hearing Harry declare his desire to help set off another automatic response. It was easier to be closed off and alienate someone then it was to admit a bit of humility and accept a new friend. 

Draco could see Harry’s body tense out of the corner of his eyes. 

“I could go now, if you want.” Harry spoke after a few uncomfortable minutes. It was terse and stiff. He made a move to stand but was surprisingly caught at the wrist by one of Draco’s hand. It had dashed out so swiftly to grasp hold of the other that it surprised Draco as well. 

“N-no wait. I uh-” Draco couldn’t find the words to say.  _ He was lonely, this small interaction was the most positive thing to happen to him since their return to Hogwarts, it felt nice to be cared for. _ All this and much more was stuck inside his head and all he could do was look at up at the boy who’d become the bane of his existence and hope that he could read minds. 

Almost as if he could, Harry sat back down, albeit a bit more stiffly than he had before. He was prepared to leave if another insult was flung his way. “I’ll wait until you fall asleep.” 

The rest of the night passed as any other. Madam Pomfrey had retired to her room in the back of the infirmary. The entire Wing was silent, only two people occupying the space, and time moved through the clouds passing by outside.

Harry had fallen asleep at some point before Draco drifted off. Both seemed a bit at peace, quiet and comfortable. Harry lay slumped in the chair, an arm dangling over the side. Draco slept as close to the edge of the bed as possible, his own arm flung over the side. 

Fingers lazily lay intertwined between them, something that fate sought to once the boys were out. An unconscious decision to hold on to each other, if only for as little as holding hands.  

A promise. 


End file.
